


a man of eternity

by writingradionoises



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Background Enoshima Junko, Background Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan, Blood Drinking, Domestic Fluff, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru Are Twins, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, M/M, Vampire Kamukura Izuru, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingradionoises/pseuds/writingradionoises
Summary: What's the worst that can happen?Actually, ignore that thought. A lot could happen.or: komaeda is cold and homeless and izuru is a sexy and forgiving vampire





	a man of eternity

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is all I know is that I am goth and I love vampires

There's always been rumors about the mansion in the edge of town. Rumors that a vampire lives there, or maybe even multiple ones.  
Though Komaeda thought it was nonsense, probably just an abandoned old house that people thought was creepy.  
Besides, he doesn't really have anything to lose. Walking through the hard and cold rain in soaking, thin clothes with only a pocket full of change to his name, what's the worst that can happen?  
Actually, ignore that thought. A lot could happen, but it would be better than dying of hypothermia.  
Nagito climbed up the steps to the house, pulling the hood on his cape tightly with his hand that wasn't holding the lantern. He then knocked on the door to the mansion, as to make sure no one was home. There was no response, so Nagito tried the door handle. The door was unlocked, and it opened easily as Nagito cautiously entered the dark house.   
He closed the door behind him, carefully analyzing the house. It was dark and dusty, the furniture covered in clothes as if it hadn't been tended to in years. Nagito set the latern down on the table, pulling down the hood on his cape as he approached the fireplace.  
It was stocked with wood, a box beside it filled with paper and other burnable items. He quickly got to work with setting up the fire, then using the fire within his latern to bring it to life. The house lit up as Nagito then went to light candles around the room.   
He could now see the house in more detail. The walls were a light shade of gray, and the living room had many cases of books, much taller than Nagito and filled to the brim. A painting stood above the fireplace, a young strawberry blonde woman standing beside a darker, long haired man. There were wearing much older clothes than common fashion, this house had to be old.  
Behind Komaeda was a door into the kitchen, and stairs beside that. He dared not intrude, there was no need to. He was quite content where he was. In front of a warm fire in a pretty house...   
He wiped off the dust of the gold plack underneath the painting, reading the words carefully.  
"Junko Enoshima and Izuru Kamukura, 1314..." Komaeda hummed to himself, "They weren't even married, maybe siblings. Strange."  
Nagito sat down in front of the fire place once again, beginning to drift off.  
Life had not been kind to him in the past, but he had a feeling he was about to get very lucky.  
He laid down, using his cape as a blanket and arm as a pillow as he drifted to sleep.

He awoke in a warm and comfortable bed, not to sunlight drifting through the windows, but rather candlelight. Nagito blinked a couple times, his vision slowly returning as he caught sight of blazing red eyes, watching him carefully.  
"Good morning," says the owner of these eyes, "Are you doing well?"  
Nagito's eyes finally focus as he scans this man carefully. He had long, very long, dark brown hair, and beautiful tan skin. Freckles litter his face and hands, and his eyes are wide and staring, like a doll.  
He looks a lot like a doll, actually.  
He is wearing a ruffled white button up and simple black slacks, the clothes look modern enough for Nagito's time, though.  
"A, ah, good morning..." Nagito said, sheepishly as he say up, awkwardly rubbing his head, "I apologize for breaking in, I thought this place was abandoned a, and-"  
"No need to apologize. I know you had no ill intent," replied the man, "May I ask what your name is?"  
"Oh! I'm Nagito Komaeda, my house burnt down last week and I haven't had anywhere to go since then..." He answered.  
"I am Izuru Kamukura, I've lived alone here for many years," replied the other.  
Nagito's brows furrowed, glancing Izuru up and down.  
"Izuru? Like the one in the painting downstairs? That... Doesn't make much sense... How old are you?"  
The other chuckled softly, hiding his smile behind his hand, "My, my, you catch on quick. Yes, I am the same one in the painting downstairs, can you guess how old I am?"  
Komaeda glanced to the side, beginning to count in hundreds on his fingers before looking back to Izuru with wide eyes, "600 years? That can't be right."  
"Close, I am 559," answered the dark haired male, "You can figure out why if you think about what others have said about this place."  
"... You're a vampire? Like, an immortal one?"  
Kamukura nodded, "Yes, I am the last one of my coven. The rest have passed away due to hunting. I'm rather young for a vampire, however."  
Komaeda tilted his head to the side in astonishment, "Do you have fangs?"  
"Mhmm," he answered, his hand, polished with black on the nails, reaches up to pull back his top lip and show the other.  
His fangs were not particularly large, though he were rather sharp. Komaeda now realized that the tooth that poked out under Izuru's lip was he smiled was indeed a fang.  
"They poke out when you smile, huh?" Komaeda asked, and Izuru nodded.  
"Yes, it's a deformity. I'm far from the perfect example of a vampire, I've had trouble ingesting human blood since I was young, and I cannot hunt for myself, both are due to my coven's passing... May I touch you?"  
Though caught off by the request, the white haired boy nodded, and Izuru reached out to touch his hair. Manicured nails carded through Komaeda's fluffy and curly hair, his free hand settling on where Nagito shoulders met his neck.  
"How... How long have you been alone?" Nagito asked, leaning into the other's touch.  
"Junko Enoshima passed roughly 300 years ago, she was the last one of my coven," Izuru replied, "She had raised me with her wife, Mikan. She was devastated when Mikan was caught and killed. Mikan was the first, followed by Junko's sister, then my twin brother, and soon all of my cousins had passed. This house was a last attempt to shelter us, it was me and Junko, before they caught up to her too," Izuru explained, "I have been alone since, and have never left this house."  
"How many of you were there?"  
"Seventeen, they called us the Despair Coven."  
Nagito fell silent, glancing to the side, "... I'm so sorry."  
"No, it's okay, you're here now, and than makes things a whole lot better," he said with a smile, pulling his hands away from Nagito as the white haired boy immediately missed the weight of them.  
"Is there... Anything I can do to make up for breaking into your house and making you tell a son story?" Nagito said with a laugh, "I'm not good at much, but I can clean!"  
Izuru snickered, "Tell you what, if you can keep this place clean, you can live here as long as you'd like."  
Komaeda's eyes widened, "Really? Well then, it's a deal!"

Over the next year, Komaeda would've explored the whole house, the guest bedroom he once awoke in would be claimed as his as he dusted down every part of the house and removed all the sheets from the furniture.  
The only rooms he had never seen were Izuru's and Junko's. He knew where Izuru's was, but chose not to disturb him. As for Junko's, it was locked, the key was most likely kept somewhere clever, knowing Izuru, though also knowing how highly he spoke of Junko. She was clever, the ultimate analyst. It's how she survived so long in the first place, outsmarting hunters to keep herself and her son safe.  
The key was the least of Komaeda's problems, though.  
The real problem was that Izuru had started throwing up goat's blood nightly, the blood he had lived off of for 600 years.  
Komaeda held his hair back while he did it, listened to him vent his frustrations and eventually end up crying on Komaeda's shoulder, whispering something about missing Mikan or Junko, how they would know what to do.  
Izuru stopped eating all together, which was only causing more trouble than solving it.  
It was late at night when Izuru knocked on his door, and Komaeda said to come in.  
Izuru say down beside him on the bed, pulling the white haired boy into a hug.  
Komaeda didn't mind, Izuru did this when he got lonely, which wasn't very often, but still.  
"You're not looking too well, Izuru," Nagito said, leaning his head on the smaller one's shoulder.  
"I know," he answered, "I don't know what to do about it. I am hungry, but I cannot eat. It will not stay down."  
Komaeda fell silent as Izuru carefully pet his hair, his paling hands carefully and shakily combing through the other's hair.  
"Izuru, when was the last time you fed off of a human?" Nagito asked.  
Izuru stopped, brows furrowing as he tried to recount, "When I was 200 years old. I couldn't keep that down either, and that's when it was decided I was a defective vampire."  
"Have you thought about trying again?"  
Izuru nodded a no, "Are you suggesting I try on you?"  
Komaeda snickered a bit, nodding, "Yes, I don't like seeing you suffer, so I'll gladly offer myself up."  
Kamukura smiled, pulling Komaeda closer to his chest, "You are too kind, but I don't want to hurt you."  
"I have a high pain tolerance," Nagito countered, "You are very gentle anyway, I don't think you would."  
Kamukura fell silent, quietly rocking Komaeda in his arms. He was thinking. Nagito reached up seized one of Izuru's cold and shaking hands, holding it carefully against his chest.  
"I... I will try it, okay?" Izuru finally says, there is anxiety in his voice as he glances down at Nagito, "If I hurt you, though, you get to punch me."  
Nagito laughs, "I won't be doing that."  
Gently, Izuru sets Komaeda down on the bed beside him as Komaeda releases Izuru's hand, the sitting up. Izuru moved himself into Nagito's lap, cold hands drifting down Komaeda's neck as to find an appropriate spot. Komaeda shivers under the touch as Izuru's fingers stops at a certain spot. He backs away for a moment, wiping off his fangs with his button up sleeve before his worry sicken eyes meet Nagito's.  
"Are you sure you wanna go through? I can stop."  
"Don't be a baby, you're 600 years old, I said it's okay. I'm not scared."  
Izuru continues to look for a reason to stop, but eventually gives in. He takes a breath, then leaning in once more.  
It doesn't hurt when his teeth sink into Nagito's neck, as expected. They are sharp and full of precision, Izuru is careful as always. Had it not been for Izuru's breath and the fluttering of his lashes against his neck, Komaeda probably wouldn't of even noticed.  
A smile comes to Komaeda's face as his arm haphazardly wrapped around Izuru's waist.  
"You're good, you can keep going," Nagito says reassuringly.  
They remain silent for a few minutes before Izuru pulls away, there is blood dripping from his mouth as Nagito cleans it up with his thumb. The dizziness catches up with Komaeda, but he can work through it as he notices some of the color come back to Izuru's face. His doll like eyes are no longer dull and hollow, the life has returned to them.  
"You're staring," Izuru interrupts his train of thought.  
"You're pretty," Nagito replied with a smile.  
The dark haired one blushes, sitting back and pushing his long hair behind his ear.  
"I'm going to do something a little crazy, is that okay?"  
"Be my guest, is there really anything crazier than drinking my blood?"  
Izuru nodded a no with a smile, leaning in and pressing his lips against Nagito's, to which Nagito reciprocated instantly.  
It's kinda weird to taste your own blood on someone else's tongue.


End file.
